


shut up and dance with me

by icaberries



Series: lavender and gold (fugioweek 2020) [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Cameos, Crossover, Established Relationship, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icaberries/pseuds/icaberries
Summary: FuGio Week 2020: Day 2 - Cosplay |Crossover| FutureJealousy is an ugly emotion. Hence, Giorno Giovanna does not experience it. Most certainly not. No matter what Sheila E says Giorno does not feel jealousy.Who cares that Fugo was dancing with the Don of Vongola, with his fluffy brown hair, soft eyes and brilliant smile?He's not jealous at all.(He's not)
Relationships: Hibari Kyouya/Sawada Tsunayoshi, Pannacotta Fugo/Giorno Giovanna
Series: lavender and gold (fugioweek 2020) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592650
Comments: 8
Kudos: 119





	shut up and dance with me

**Author's Note:**

> It's already past midnight in my time zone when I'm uploading this and I'm behind on my Day 3 so this posted in a sleep-deprived haze. 
> 
> I always thought it'd be hella cool if Giorno and Tsuna can meet. I mean, Japanese teenagers trying to change a part of an Italian mafia? It must be done and here is the product of it. I haven't watched Hitman Reborn in years, but hopefully I still got the characterization down. The last KHR fic I wrote was about seven years ago? Back in my FFN days lol that also explains my username.

The party is hosted by the Cavallone famiglia in one of their manors near the border of Naples. It was meant to celebrate the growing alliance between mafia families in the south of Italy, Passione included. 

The ballroom is decorated lavishly, as expected of one of the richest and oldest mafia families in Italy. Chandeliers made of diamond and gold lit up the vast floors. The floor to ceiling windows showed off the wide, teeming flower garden just outside, something which impressed even Giorno who prided his own gardens back in their own headquarters. 

The motif of the party is gold and white with decorative horses scattered about-Cavallone’s symbol. Although, Giorno notes that care has been taken to represent the other families in the alliance. He sees that Passione’s reserved tables are decorated with blooming red peonies with black pansies, akin to the ladybugs Giorno adorns. 

His eyes drift off to the other party guests as he waits for the rest of his famiglia to show up. Dressed in designer suits or gowns, perfectly done hair and make-up, concealed weapons, glittering jewels to show off their status. It’s nothing Giorno hasn’t seen before. He’s been the Don of Passione for the past three years. Beneath beautiful faces and professional facades, there lies the ugly truth of their shared professions.

Despite all the glamour and luxury around him, Giorno has eyes for one person only. 

Fugo enters the ballroom, standing in between Mista and Sheila E. He’s traded his usual suit for a designer piece, something Trish probably picked out for him. It’s a black suit with faint floral embroidery, his dress shirt is dark violet, highlighting his pale skin and hair. There’s a ladybug pin on his and Mista’s ties and on Sheila’s hair. 

Their eyes meet. As cliche as it sounds, Giorno feels the rest of the ballroom fade in the background. All his senses are tuned in to Fugo, how his suit highlights his lithe figure, how his heartbeat picks up, how his cheeks feel warm even as the rest of his face remains impassive. Fugo flashes him a smile and Giorno almost overloads. 

Like clockwork, the three of them descend the stairs leading down to the ballroom together, the united front of Passione, Don Giovanna’s closest allies. Sheila’s eyes are cold as she surveys the room, body sprung for a fight anytime. Mista’s gait is more relaxed, but there’s a very obvious bulge in his dress pants that says he’s prepared for an attack. Even in a room full of allies, you can never be too sure who to trust. 

Just as planned, Mista and Sheila peel away from Fugo when they reach the floor, covering more ground in the ballroom, taking in exit points, openings for attack, while Fugo makes his way to Giorno. 

Even from far away the sight of Fugo already sent Giorno’s heart spiraling, now up close where Giorno can smell his vanilla-scented perfume and see the faint scarring on his cheek, he may as well be in cardiac arrest. 

Fugo kisses the back of his hand as a greeting. Giorno’s heart lurches. He wills it to keep beating. The last thing he needed was for his allies to see Don Giovanna of Passione die from too much love. 

Fugo squirms at Giorno’s attention. They’re still working on that. “Must you do that too?”

“Too?”   
  


“People were staring at me on the way here.” 

Giorno just hums, tucks a lock of hair from Fugo’s hair where it came loose from his short ponytail. His fingers catch on small red earrings, out of place from the rest of the designer ensemble. No status to show off, just Fugo’s penchant for strawberries. He’s immeasurably fond of him. “Maybe because you looked beautiful. I know I can’t stop staring.” 

Fugo scoffs, but his cheeks are pink. “Maybe because somebody declared me as their consort weeks ago.” 

“Now who would do such a thing?”

“Giogio…” Exasperated but fond. 

Giorno looks at the crowd. Everyone who’s been staring at them looks away. Passione may be new but Giorno’s reputation is spreading. He looks back at Fugo who is failing to hide his smile at the gesture. 

“I didn’t think you cared about what people thought of you.”

“Yes, but that was when it was only me. Now my reputation will reflect on yours. I don’t want to disappoint.” 

“You could never.” Never is a strong word, but they’re both too drunk on a young love to care about practicalities of promises. 

Fugo’s eyes catch something behind Giorno. Before he can turn around to see, Fugo has placed himself next to him, one arm around his waist. “Couple at your 7.” 

Giorno wraps a hand around Fugo’s neck, leans up as if whispering something to him, but his eyes shift minutely to the couple making their way towards them. 

The shorter one of them looks to be the same age as Giorno with messy brown hair, despite the clean press of his black suit and orange dress shirt. His eyes are light brown and gentle, but there’s something about the way he carries himself that’s setting alarms off. Gold Experience hums beneath his skin, ready to be called. His companion is more forthright with his presence. Sharp blue eyes, a strong body beneath his suit. He’s like Sheila in that he looks ready to fight at a moment’s notice. His aura reminded Giorno of La Squadra. This man can fit right in with the assassins. 

“Don Giovanna, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person,” the short one says, foregoing the usual handshake between bosses and choosing to bow. His voice is tinged in a familiar accent. There’s only one other boss Giorno knows that shared the same descent as him. “My name is Tsunayoshi Sawada, Don of the Vongola famiglia.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Sawada-san I’ve heard much about your family, “ Giorno says as he bows. As he does so, he spots the ornate ring on Sawada’s hand, bearing the name of the Vongola. Unlike the other guests who wear jewelry to show off their wealth, the ring speaks of something else he can’t quite name. 

The north side of Italy is an enigma to Giorno. For all his reign, Diavolo never made attempts to ally himself with other families. It was only recently that Giorno started to read up on the other families in Italy, and that other families started to reach out to him. They seem to be curious about the little upstart now running Naples, one of the youngest bosses in history. Which is why it sets Giorno on edge to encounter Vongola like this. They’ve been running for 400 years. Passione is young compared to them. It’s like going into class as a freshman and realizing everyone is levels above you.

Giorno doesn’t plan on staying that vulnerable for that long, no matter how amicable his new allies appear to be. It’s eat or be eaten, and Giorno refuses to be an easy meal. 

“Please just call me Tsuna,” he says with a nervous smile, odd coming from someone of his position. 

“Then, I must insist you call me Giorno.” 

“Okay then, Giorno-san.” He hasn’t heard a Japanese honorific attached to his name in years. It’s oddly nostalgic. “This is one of my guardians and head of Vongola’s intelligence, Kyoya Hibari.” 

Those sharp blue eyes give him a once-over and a curt nod.  _ “Omnivore.”  _

Giorno’s rusty Japanese couldn’t grasp the translation but Tsuna gets wide-eyed at Hibari. “Really?”

“But you’re vegan,” Fugo says, confusing himself and Giorno. He’s more practiced at the language than Giorno is, owing to him learning Japanese rigorously ever since Giorno told him about his heritage. He’s thoughtful like that. 

“This is my consigliere, Fugo.” 

_ “Nice to meet you, Sawada-san, Hibari-san,”  _ Fugo says in accented Japanese as he bows. 

Tsuna greets him back in Japanese. Hibari just grunts. 

In the short silence that follows, Giorno recalls the diplomacy lessons Buccellatti drilled into his head. Focus the conversation on them. Play into their vanity. Don’t draw attention to Passione. The less they know about us, the less weapons they can use against us. 

“Congratulations on your inheritance by the way. You are the tenth boss of Vongola now, correct.” 

“Vongola Decimo, yes. Though my tutor is working on renaming me as Neo Vongola Primo,” he seems to shudder as he says it. Hibari smirks. 

This wasn’t in their file. “Why is that, if I may ask?”

Tsuna pauses. For all his amicability, he’s still a boss, he seems to be debating what information to tell Giorno. “Vongola leadership is passed through bloodlines. Let’s just say I don’t agree with my ancestors. I want to change Vongola to what it used to be. Hence, being a Neo Primo than a Decimo. A new first boss, than the tenth boss.”

To some extent, Giorno understands.Legacies are messy if his own origins have anything to say about it. He hopes he looks as sympathetic as he feels. 

A dazzling smile fills Tsuna’s face and Giorno is taken aback by the sincerity of it, unlike the practiced politeness of everyone else in the room. 

“Congratulations to you as well, Giorno-san. I’ve been following your progress with Naple’s anti-drug campaign. From what I’ve seen, you’ve brought so much change the place and its people. I have no doubt you’ll continue doing greater things in the future.” 

Giorno almost feels sheepish. It’s the most sincere compliment he’s received about his working, coming from outside his own family, from another Don no less. “Thank you. Passione is only two generations old compared to you but your support means a lot.” 

“I swear by my will and our visions for our families to support your endeavors, Don Passione.” 

“Likewise, Don Vongola.” 

It’s only a five-minute conversation, small-talk at a party, but men in their positions are not for throwaway words. At that moment they have made a vow and Passione and Vongola’s alliance is sealed. 

Tsuna extends a hand, the one with the ring on it, and Giorno takes it in a firm handshake. Immediately, a rush of warmth extends from his hand, to his arm, to his heart, akin to Gold Experience thrumming in his soul. Tusna must feel the same if his awed smile is anything to go by. 

For a brief moment, Giorno sees an orange aura dancing around Tsuna. It disappears as soon as they let go of each other’s hand. 

Giorno has been running Passione for three years. Tsuna has only inherited his position recently, yet he’s already exceeding all expectations. 

Fugo nudges him. Tsuna turns to Hibari and starts speaking Japanese. “Looks like everyone caught the memo.” 

Across the ballroom, Mista is in deep conversation with a silver-haired man, adorned with multiple rings on his fingers and a belt buckle with a red gem. Near the buffet table, Sheila is seated with a man and a woman with striking violet hair drinking champagne and talking quietly. The two of them have an earring each made of three metallic feathers. 

Giorno’s eyes flicker back to Hibari and the spiked bracelet on his wrist with a purple gem. Hibari’s eyes meet his and they narrow in suspicion. 

Fugo is a solid presence next to him. He places a hand on Giorno’s shoulder and squeezes it as he stares back at Hibari, barely flinching under his intense gaze. Giorno knows Fugo won’t risk using Purple Haze in this crowd but that fact that he’s ready to fight for him anyway speaks volumes.    
  


Tsuna says something that draws Hibari’s attention back to him and the stare-off breaks. Fugo mutters something under his breath that Giorno is pretty sure is meant to be insulting. 

“What do you think of them?” Giorno asks, taking Fugo by the hand and rubbing his thumb in circles against his palm. He makes sure to be quiet, even as the Vongola talk amongst themselves. 

“Reminds me of you.” At Giorno’s pointed look, Fugo explains,” Raise in Japan, trying to live up to their bloodlines, yet be better than them, joined organizations to reform them, smiles like angels while dealing with devils.” 

Giorno smiles at that, but he remembers an important detail. Tsuna’s ring, Hibari’s bracelet, the eye-catching jewelry the other Vongola members wear. He’s sure he didn’t imagine the unnatural warmness that coursed through him when they shook hands.“They’re not Stand users, I think. But we can’t rule out the possibility that they have a different source of power. No one that young ends up as the respected boss of a powerful family if they were completely normal.” 

“Another point to your similarities,” Fugo’s tone is teasing but his smile is week. Giorno feels the same. A power other than Stands? The Speedwagon Foundation will be livid. 

Reverb echoes through the room. They turn their attention to the stage, where an attractive, tall blond is tapping on a microphone. 

“It’s Dino-nii,” Tsuna says. Hibari huffs in annoyance. 

_ Brother?  _ Giorno’s rough Japanese translates for him. He has much to learn about dynamics between mafia leaders. 

Dino Cavallone gives a short speech, thanking them for coming here, and greeting his allies by family and bosses. When Giorno and Tsuna’s names are called, there are more curious murmurs than applause from the crowd. Fugo takes it as another point, Giorno nudges him. 

“Now as a way to break the ice, I’d like to introduce everyone to a Cavallone party tradition. The first dance of the night is meant to celebrate the forging of new alliances. I’d like everyone who will participate to ask someone to a dance, someone who belongs outside their families.” He pauses, looks in a certain part of the room. “No, Varia squad, you cannot dance with members from the Vongola family. Please acknowledge that you are part of the same family and socialize with others for once.”   
  


Laughter across the room. Someone shouts at the opposite end of the hall. Dino’s smile is filled with mirth. 

Music begins to play from the orchestra, a rendition of Strauss’ The Blue Danube. Couples begin to trickle to the dance floor. 

“Shame. I really wanted to dance with you,” Giorno laments. 

“You can have the rest of my dances for tonight.” 

Giorno smiles fondly at him. God, he adores this man. Fugo smiles down at him and he knows the feeling is mutual. 

Their moment is interrupted by Tsuna clearing their throat. He holds a hand out to Fugo. “May I have a dance?”

To his credit, Fugo doesn’t react to the sudden invitation. He looks at Giorno, as if asking for permission. As a reply, Giorno adjusts his tie for him, tapping on the ladybug pin.  _ Mine _ , is the unspoken sentiment. 

A polite smile is Tsuna’s direction. “I’d love to.” 

Fugo takes his hand and the two of them make their way to the dance floor. 

Giorno turns to Hibari to offer the same, and maybe ask what he called him in Japanese back then, but the man strides away without so much as excusing himself. 

Well then. 

He goes to the Passione-assigned table where Sheila has somehow stacked ten types of pastries from the buffet on a single plate. 

“Where’s Mista?” he asks as he sits down and snatches the strawberry cream puff on top of the pile. 

“Dancing with Chrome,” Sheila says through a mouthful of cream. Even dressed in Trish Una’s finest fashion advice, she doesn’t care for manners or appearances. Giorno is insanely fond of her. “Wanted to do the same but her partner is hella protective.” 

“Oh?” Sheila crooks a finger to the Vongola table where the man with the violet hair is glaring daggers at Mista as he dances with the Chrome girl. In true Mista fashion, he doesn’t seem to care that he’s being mentally killed in someone’s mind. Giorno is also insanely fond of him.

Giorno’s gaze drifts over to Tsuna and Fugo. Fugo is leading, one hand on Tsuna’s waist and the other clasping one of Tsuna’s hands. He watches as Tsuna steps on Fugo’s foot and apologizes profusely. Fugo waves him off with a good-natured smile. A tight feeling begins to grow in Giorno’s chest. 

“Oh yeah. I got something to tell you, boss. I think Vongola are stand users, but not quite.” 

Giorno’s eyes don’t leave the dance floor. “Yeah?” 

“I had Voodoo Child track some of them around before we went inside. She spotted a hedgehog near Mr. Sunshine, the guy who Fugo had a staring contest with. 

Hibari, his mind supplies. “What else?”

“It was weird. I thought Hedgehog was the stand but it didn’t react to Voodoo Child’s presence at all. When Hibari came around, he didn’t see her either but the guy got all tense and pulled tonfas out.  _ Tonfas _ Giorno.” 

“Hm.” Tsuna whispers something in Fugo’s ear. Fugo says something back and for a moment they just look at each other. 

“It’s weird right? He can summon a hedgehog thing but he can’t see stands.” 

Tsuna says something again and Fugo blushes like crazy. Tsuna laughs but calms Fugo down with a dazzling smile. 

_ “Well fuck _ ,” Giorno thinks, reverting to Japanese. 

Sheila suddenly snaps her fingers in front of Giorno’s face and that gets him to finally look at her. “Giorno, are you even listening?”

Giorno blinks, processes. “Hibari. Hedgehog. Tonfas, I think.” 

Sheila groans. “Why are you the boss again?”

“Because I killed the old one.” 

“Shut up.” Sheila slaps his arm and it stings because she’s strong but okay Giorno deserved that. “This is serious. That hedgehog’s spikes were moving. It was on fire, Giorno. Purple fire. And let me reiterate a point you missed.” Sheila grabs an eclair and jabs it in Giorno’s direction like a weapon. “He had tonfas. Motherfucking tonfas in this day and age.” 

“We need to ask Murolo to look in on them when we get back to base.” Giorno grabs the eclair and takes a bite out of it. French cream bursts in his mouth with a tang of strawberry jelly. Fugo would love this. “Until we can be sure, do not engage.” 

“Mista and Fugo are already engaging.” 

On the dance floor, Tsuna is getting the hang of it. He looks up at Fugo every time he gets a step right. Fugo nods and Tsuna mouths “thank you.” 

It reminds Giorno of his own dance lessons years back. Passione’s barely used ballroom, Vivaldi playing on Fugo’s phone, Fugo’s hands warm and firm on Giorno’s waist, his soft voice whispering steps in Giorno’s ears. 

“I’m losing you again.” 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. It’s okay to be jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous,” he says sharply. 

“Oh? Did I touch a nerve? Our dear Panna getting swept off his feet by a dashing don with pretty eyes.” 

“There will be no sweeping.” 

“Unless it’s done by you?” 

“Yup.” 

“You’ve got it bad, boss.” 

Giorno just hums in acknowledgement. 

“Fugo thinks my eyes are pretty. His opinion is the only one that matters to me.” 

“Okay.” 

“He promised the rest of his dances to me anyway.” 

“I get it.” 

“At least I won’t step on his feet.” 

“You can stop now.” 

“There is no reason to be jealous because I am assured of Fugo’s feelings for me and my feelings for him.” 

“Boss, come on. If I stop making fun of your non-existent jealousy right now, will you stop waxing poetic?” 

Giorno’s lips curl up. “Sure.” 

“I’ll just make fun of you in future encounters.” 

Before Giorno can retort, because banter is only won when you get the last word in, Hibari Kyoya strides past them, murder in his gaze as he makes his way to where Tsuna and Fugo stands. 

Giorno tenses. Next to him Sheila curses and gets to her feet. 

Hibari grabs Tsuna by the arm who apologizes to Fugo as he gets dragged away off the dance floor and out of sight. 

“The hell?” Sheila sits back down, fight gone. “I was hoping for a fight. This party is boring.” 

“Please don’t.” 

Sheila just grumbles and stalks off to get more food, despite her plate still being full. Left alone, Giorno makes his way to the dance floor. 

Fugo is waiting for him, confused from earlier but he smiles when Giorno approaches. He wraps his arms around Giorno’s waist as Giorno wraps his arms around his shoulders. 

“They’re not stand users,” they say at the same time. 

“How’d you know?” 

“Don Sawada told me outright. They know about the existence of stands but there’s no recorded user in their family.” 

“Sheila found a hedgehog. It’s not a stand but it’s not naturally made either.” 

“Box animals probably. In exchange for information about stands, Don Sawada told me they have a thing called box animals and box weapons. It’s like a stand but in a box and visible to everyone. He says he wants to schedule a meeting to exchange intel soon.” 

“That explains the hedgehog.” They’re swaying softly to the music, not really following the traditional steps of a waltz. The polite facade Fugo has been wearing melts into something softer, more personal, for Giorno’s eyes only. “Hi. I missed you.” 

“Hi,” Giorno pauses. “I’m supposed to be mad at you.” 

Fugo’s eyebrows wrinkle. “What for?” 

“What did Tsuna-san say that got you blushing earlier?”

“Ah. Nothing.” 

“Cotti, come on.” 

“Giogio.” Fugo lays his forehead on Giorno’s shoulder, trying to hide his burning face. Giorno turns his head to kiss Fugo’s neck. He makes a garbled noise. “He said...He said that he was surprised that I haven’t stepped on him, considering how many times I looked your way while we were dancing.” 

Giorno feels a rush of fondness for him. He hides his face in Fugo’s hair, breathes in vanilla. The two of them continue to hold each other and sway, completely at their own world.

_ I love you. _ , Giorno wants to say but something holds him back. Their relationship is new. There’s a difference between knowing in his heart what he feels about him and being ready to say it and make it real. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you too, Cotti. Ever since you walked through those doors.” 

Fugo whines. “You can’t just say stuff like that, Giogio.” 

“Yes, I can. I’m Don Giovanna of Passione. I can do whatever I want, including embarrassing my boyfriend.” 

Fugo straightens his back, looks at Giorno with love in his eyes, and that is enough for him. “Just shut up and dance with me.” 

With a laugh, Giorno pulls Fugo closer against him, close enough to feel his heart beating madly in his chest. 

In his peripheral vision, he sees Tsuna pulling a displeased Hibari to the dance floor. Their eyes meet. They share a smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from: Walk the Moon-Shut Up and Dance With Me. 
> 
> Talk Fugio to me [[Twitter]](twitter.com/icaishii)


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